


cut straight through the moonlight

by komhmagnus



Category: Shadowhunters (TV), The Shadowhunter Chronicles - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, Alternate Universe - Small Town, Cats, Chance Meetings, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Mutual Pining, Reunited and It Feels So Good, Sort Of, stray cats make good wingmen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-15
Updated: 2019-01-15
Packaged: 2019-10-10 10:15:32
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,585
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17423978
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/komhmagnus/pseuds/komhmagnus
Summary: “Alec? Alec Lightwood?” Magnus asks in surprise, annoyed with himself for the tinge of delight he feels at running into this particular old acquaintance. He remembers the wayAlexanderused to roll off his tongue, but the surprise at seeing his face after so long cut like a knife.or,the small town au in which Magnus and Alec reconnect over a chance meeting, stray cats, and the worst cat name I think I could've decided on





	cut straight through the moonlight

**Author's Note:**

> Title is from Alfie's Song (Not So Typical Love Song) by Bleachers!
> 
> Thank you to Zia for the prompt and also thanks to the random conversation on Twitter last week about cheesesteaks.

For the first time in a few months, a cat isn’t meowing outside of Magnus’s apartment in the middle of the night. The stray’s been missing for a week, actually, Magnus realizes. The thought makes him ridiculously uneasy. The cat isn’t even _his_. He should feel relief, he thinks, at this turn of events, but sleep evades him for the painful twist of worry in his stomach.

The stray first showed up in mid-January, crying out in the cold. Idris was a small town in upstate New York, and the winters were fierce. He’d tried to coax her inside, but she wouldn’t come near the door. Resigned, he’d put some canned tuna he’d found in his cabinet into a bowl and left it for her. He watched from the threshold as she hesitantly nibbled at the offering, but still she wouldn’t follow him inside, nor would she allow him close enough to pick her up. After a week of this, Magnus decided she needed a name.

“Hello, Sweet Pea,” he’d said when the cat appeared in the middle of the night once again like clockwork. She stared and mewled up at him. “No? I thought it was rather cute.” He set the bowl down in front of her. “How about Nutmeg? Chick Pea? Bagel?” Magnus didn’t know what he expected in response, maybe a nod or meow of approval, but the cat’s focus remained fixed to her bowl of Fancy Feast that Magnus had purchased after the third day she had appeared. He took the bowl inside once she was finished, setting in the sink before returning to the door to see if he might be able to coax her inside this time around. Snow was in the forecast and Magnus didn’t envy any creature that had to bear the brunt of New York’s winters without a warm shelter.

Biscuit’s appearance had quickly become a daily occurrence, one that he looked forward to. Idris was lonely, despite his family’s closeness. Their makeshift group stuck together and had dinner often, but they couldn’t prevent adult life and busy schedules from interfering.

Now Magnus wonders where his little Biscuit has gone, worry that something terrible might have happened nagging at his chest. He’d left the bowl of cat food out a few nights before, just in case she arrived long after he’d fallen asleep, but the bowl was still filled when he woke the next morning.

He sighs, setting down the papers he’d been trying to grade. _It’s stupid_ , he thinks, _worrying about a cat that isn’t even mine_. But still, he can’t shake that feeling of dread that’s been building in his gut all night and every night for the past week. Magnus stands, swearing under his breath as he moves to find his thick winter coat in the front closet.

He almost regrets his decision as soon as the blast of cold March air hits him in the face. _Almost_. Biscuit might be out there freezing to death and horribly alone, he reminds himself. He does retreat inside for a moment, though, to put some food into a bowl just in case he manages to find her. She must be hungry, he thinks. He doesn’t know if she’s truly a stray or if she has a home of her own

The streets of Idris are quiet at this time of night, and Magnus is glad. He’d lived in the city for a year or two, and he’d loved it--of course he had--but something about all the noise and the lights never quite felt like home. It was funny, he’d thought when he’d moved back to Idris, that the small town he’d _despised_ as a teenager became something he’d missed so dearly. The street lights cast a soft glow over the pavement still wet from a snowfall earlier that day that hadn’t managed to stick, much to the chagrin of his students.

His eyes roam as he walks, searching for any sign of movement. Magnus glances around at as much as he can, skimming over the ditches and bushes and around the houses he walks past. _Where are you?_ he thinks, as though the cat might hear his thoughts. For all he knows, the cat might not even _want_ to be found. What if she has a home? What if she’s curled up with her _actual_ owner and he’s worried for absolutely nothing.

He’s only a few blocks from his home when he spots her, just a dark blur darting around a corner and disappearing down the street he’s approaching. Magnus’s heart does a quick flip as he turns the corner to follow her. To his surprise, he sees a man stepping off of his front porch, backlit by the porchlight. The man is even more bundled than Magnus is, as though he’s been outside for longer, waiting in cold.

The man holds something in his hand, Magnus realizes. _A bowl_. Anger and jealousy surges through him as the man sets the bowl down in front of Biscuit and reaches to scratch behind her ears. Magnus is close enough to hear him cooing at her. He shouldn’t be this jealous of a _cat’s_ affections, but here he is, turning red in the face but not just from the cold.

As he approaches, the man’s face becomes more visible, and Magnus stops dead on his feet as he studies it. His heart hammers as he recognizes the man’s face. The face he used to dream about--and still does, sometimes, but he would never admit that to anyone. Not even to Catarina. The face he thought left Idris for good and took his own pining heart with it.

“Alec? Alec Lightwood?” Magnus asks in surprise, annoyed with himself for the tinge of delight he feels at running into this particular old acquaintance. He remembers the way _Alexander_ used to roll off his tongue, but the surprise at seeing his face after so long cut like a knife.

The man looks up with wide, startled eyes, but his expression molds into a smile when he recognizes him. “Hey, Magnus. It’s been a while.” Alec’s gaze catches on the bowl of cat food in his own hands, but he doesn’t comment.

“A while?” Magnus scoffs. “More like ten years. I thought you were living in the city now.”

“I was, for a while,” Alec says as he scratches behind Biscuit’s ears, “but I missed my family and luckily you can be a veterinarian just about anywhere.” Alec stands, meeting his eyes with a raised eyebrow. “What about you? Didn’t you always want to leave Idris?”

Magnus laughs, easily recalling his _I-can’t-hear-you-over-how-much-I-hate-this-town_ teen angst days. “I did leave for a little bit. I travelled a lot after college with some money I had saved up, but I don’t have much family and everyone who loves me is here, so it made sense.” Alec hums in reply. “Plus, it’s small town charms have finally grown on me a bit, I think.”

“You?” Alec asks with a mocking gasp, eyes twinkling playfully in the streetlights. It shouldn’t have even _close_ to the effect it does on Magnus. It’s been _years_. A literal _decade_ since high school. His stupid crush should’ve long faded by now. Or maybe he’s just destined to always have a soft spot for Alexander Lightwood.

“Yes, me,” Magnus answers with a scowl. “I’m even teaching at the high school. Your younger brother is in my class, actually,” he adds.

“I would say ‘small world,’ but it is _Idris_ we’re talking about,” Alec laughs. “What do you teach? I’m surprised Max didn’t mention it, to be honest. You were over at our house so much hanging out with Iz.”

“History,” Magnus answers with a smile. “Ancient civilizations, mostly. And don’t worry about it. Max is a teenager. I’m sure he has much more interesting things to do than talk about his older sister’s friend from high school.”

“Like what?” Alec asks. “Brooding?”

“Oh, I’m sure,” Magnus laughs. “I don’t think either of us can really talk, though. We were the worst.” Alec’s smile grew tight. Magnus’s heart clenched. “So are you the reason this little one has stopped visiting me every night?” Magnus asks after a moment of quiet.

Alec laughs, slight surprise written across his face. “Is that where she kept disappearing to? I wondered where she was going for all those months. I guess that explains the bowl,” he adds, gesturing to Magnus’s hands.

“Wait, she’s yours?” Magnus asks, trying not to feel offended as he watches Biscuit rub against Alec’s leg.

“Yeah, I adopted her right after I moved back to town.”

“Oh,” Magnus says. “I suppose now is a bad time to mention that I’ve been feeding her almost every night and trying to give her a name.”

“Oh, yeah?” Alec quirks an eyebrow. “What did you decide on?”

“Biscuit.”

Alec laughs suddenly, the sound loud in the crisp night air. “How did we both end up with food names? That’s amazing.”

“Well, don’t keep me suspense. What did you name her?” Magnus asks.

“Technically, Jace named her. While extremely drunk.”

Magnus raises his eyebrows. “Now I really must know.”

Alec presses a hand against his lips, holding in a laugh as he speaks. “Cheesesteak. Her name is Cheesesteak.”

Magnus’s mouth drops open, unable to form words that could do his incredulity justice. “Cheesesteak?” he asks. “Really?”

Alec raises his hands in defence. “Don’t look at me, I already told you it was Jace.”

“Yes, but you didn’t have to _listen_ to your highly intoxicated brother,” Magnus points out.

“Yeah, but where’s the fun in that?”

“ _That_ ,” Magnus says with a pointed gaze, “does not sound like the Alec Lightwood I knew in high school.”

Alec shrugs. “A lot changes in ten years.” His gaze drifts down to Biscuit-- _Cheesesteak_ , Magnus reminds himself. “You used to call me Alexander. In high school, I mean. You were the only person who ever did. Not even my parents.”

Magnus’s throat is suddenly dry, feeling absolutely as frozen as the night’s air around them. “Did I?” he mumbles. “I must’ve forgotten,” he lies, as if he could ever, _ever_ forget a single thing about Alexander Lightwood. He lies because how can he tell Alec that no matter how many times he’d told himself over the years that it was just a simple crush and it would go away and he’d find love and forget all about his schoolboy crush.

Alec gives him a sad smile, as if he knows all of that anyways. As if he’s thinking some rendition of it himself, and whatever breath is left in Magnus’s lungs goes surging out of his as though he’s been punched. He would give anything, _anything_ , he decided, if Alec never had that look on his face again. Even if it meant baring his soul about the feelings he’d felt ten years ago and still did today.

“Actually, no I didn’t. I just…”

“What?” Alec asks softly.

“I always figured you hated it, but I did it anyways because I wanted to get under your skin, because it always seemed like absolutely nothing did, and that was what I wanted, to be something… someone you thought about, even if it was in annoyance…” The words are tumbling out of his mouth faster than he can think to stop them. Maybe he never wanted to stop them, he thinks. “Because I had the biggest crush on you in high school, and you just seemed so far away, like I’d never be able to reach you, but God-- _God,_ did I want to. I still do, apparently, because my heart hasn’t stopped slamming into my chest since I saw you.”

Alec gapes at him, clearly unsure what to say. Magnus can’t read the expression in his eyes, but then, he never really could. They stand there for a moment in silence, only Cheesesteak’s purrs filling the night air.

“I should go,” Magnus says after a moment, rubbing at his arm with his free hand. “I was out to see if the cat was okay since I hadn’t seen her in a week or so, and I know that she is now, and I’ve clearly made a fool of myself, so. I should go.” He turns and heads back up the street, walking as quickly as his cold, stiff legs will allow him. It was far too cold to be having a conversation outside in the middle of the night, anyways, he thinks not at all bitterly (or so he tells himself).

“It didn’t annoy me,” Alec calls after him. “I liked it, actually.”

Magnus’s wounded ego begs him to keep walking, but something in Alec’s voice makes him turn around. “You did?”

Alec nods, reaching down to scoop up Cheesesteak before closing the distance between them. “I didn’t know what I wanted back then. Or, no, I did. But I didn’t know how to let myself have it. How to let myself be happy.” He pauses, pressing his nose into Cheesesteak’s fur as if trying to warm it up. It shouldn’t be this adorable. Magnus shouldn’t want to pull him into his arms and press kisses to his nose and cheeks. “I, uh… I liked you, too. I just--I didn’t know what to do about it. Or if I should do anything about it.” His eyes meet Magnus’s again, his cheeks red from the cold or from embarrassment, Magnus isn’t sure.

“You liked me?” Magnus asks because his brain hasn’t quite caught up, hasn’t come close to processing what Alec is telling him.

“Yes. And I always regretted never doing anything about it because, honestly?” He reaches up, running a hand through his already disheveled hair. Magnus really doesn’t think it’s fair ho absolutely adorable _any_ of this is. “I think I still I like you, now, too. And I don’t want to miss my chance again, not if I know you feel, or at least _felt_ , the same way,” Alec adds, something hopeful and younger than he seemed even back in high school in his smile.

Magnus smiles back, equal parts hope and youth and adoration in his own. “I don’t want to miss another chance, either.”

“Can I...can I kiss you?” Alec asks in a hushed whisper, still easily heard in the dead street.

Magnus doesn’t answer. Instead, he grabs the lapels of Alec’s jacket and pulls him closer, their lips connecting. It’s slow, at first. Tentative, exploring. Magnus forgets the ice cold air, the occasional bursts of wind that sent shivers racking through him only moments ago. All he can focus on is Alexander Lightwood’s lips against his own and how right it feels and the endless possibilities before them.

The cat purrs, still tucked between them and pressed into the warmth of their bodies. They pull away from each other, eyes meeting in awe before Magnus giggles.

“Who knew a stray cat would be the best wingman I’ve ever had?” he jokes when Alec raises his eyebrow in question.

Alec smirks. “A cat named _Cheesesteak_ , too.” They burst into laughter.

Magnus reaches out to scratch behind the cat’s ears once they’ve calmed. “How would you like to get dinner sometime this week?” he asks.

“I would love that,” Alec grins.

Magnus beams at him. “Then, _Alexander_ , it’s a date.”

They stand there on the sidewalk together a few more moments, still wrapped in each other’s warmth as their breath mingles in the frozen air.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading!! Comments and kudos are appreciated 💖  
> Find me on tumblr and twitter @banesapothecary!


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